


heaven help a fool who falls in love (or: icarus reaching the sun)

by champagne_for_breakfast



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Getting Together, Greek Mythology - Freeform, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, i know too much and i overshare, so much pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/champagne_for_breakfast/pseuds/champagne_for_breakfast
Summary: “Icarus.”There is a beat of silence, everyone obviously wondering what he meant.“Because you are putting yourself in danger?” Courfeyrac pipes up.“Is it the alcohol?” Eponine cuts in.“You’re headed for an early grave?” Joly asks anxiously, half getting up, as if he were to hug Grantaire. Or ask Musichetta to do so. Because let’s face it, Musichetta gives the best hugs.Ignoring their questions, Grantaire makes a show out of obviously staring at Enjolras, who still seems engrossed in his laptop. He lets out another sigh and has to stop himself from breaking the facade by breaking into laughter. “Because I, too, want to fuck the sun.”
Relationships: Bahorel/Feuilly (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 221





	heaven help a fool who falls in love (or: icarus reaching the sun)

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by the tumblr post by @pinkcolumbo
> 
> Title from Ophelia by the lumineers, which I was listening to on repeat while writing this
> 
> Various Greek myths are told here - check out Heroes, and Mythos by Stephen Fry, it's worth it.

It’s long past when their meeting should have started and Grantaire is sitting at a table in the back, playing with the bottle in his hand. He half-listens to Feuilly talking about something that happened at one of his jobs that day, but if asked he could not contribute to that conversation at all.

Eponine lazily strolls into the backroom of the Musain and Grantaire can see her halt at the casual air surrounding all of les amis.

Here is the thing: the meeting hasn’t started yet. And it is quite obvious that it won’t for while.

Their dear leader is sitting at the opposite end of the room, laptop open in front of him, headphones in, occasionally contributing to the online video conference he is supposed to be part of. He is the right kind of righteously furious, so it must be about one of their rallies.

Or knowing Enjolras, he might just be talking to his parents.

Anyway, the meeting seems to be postponed. But they are still all here. It’s valued friend time after all. Sometimes their meetings are the only time they all see each other.

“You’re here on time?” Eponine says as she sits down next to Grantaire. As if that was a new development.

Apparently her words are louder than she meant them to be - or the room is smaller than is appropriate for private conversations - because Courfeyrac turns around, a bright grin on his face. “He’s actually been the first here. Or, well, the first after Enj.”

It’s no secret that Enjolras is always the first one at the Musain. It’s become an inside joke - he must be living here. Why else would he be here early, all the time?

Eponine throws him a suspicious glance. “You haven’t killed each other while being alone?”

Grantaire forces out a laugh and is saved from answering by Jehan speaking up.

“Ok, I need all your attention.” Even Enjolras looks up at that, a short glance in their direction since Jehan has stood up. “Not you, Enj.” They gesture and Enjolras glances back at his screen, his brows drawing together, a frown forming on his face.

An elbow to his side pulls Grantaire out of his staring. When he looks at Eponine, she too gestures towards Jehan.

“I have an assignment for class and since this meeting isn’t happening -” a sly glance thrown towards their leader in red - “you can all help me with that.”

Now even Courfeyrac is silent, even though he is usually the loudest out of all of them.

“What is it?”

Jehan sighs. “I have to present a bunch of Greek myths during class - I have to pick them myself,” they add, “and so I need all of you to tell me about your favorite myths, so I can talk about them.”

There is a stunned silence in the room. Eventually Joly pipes up. “Couldn’t you have asked R since he is… a connoisseur?”

“I could have. But it’s more fun to ask all of you.”

“I’ll start!” Courfeyrac practically screams. “My favorite myth is Europe.”

Grantaire has to stifle a laugh, so he takes a swig from his bottle. He knows damn well where this is going.

Combeferre perks up at that. “And why’s that?”

“Wrong question. What happens?” Jehan adds.

“Well, you see, uh,” Courfeyrac starts. “There’s this girl. Her name’s Europe and she’s super beautiful. Anyway, Zeus sees her and you know what Zeus is like. Dude can’t keep it in his pants. So he kidnaps her.”

He takes a dramatic pause right there.

“Come on, go on,” Bossuet laughs.

“So he tries to seduce her, but he can’t be his divine self because she might not want him.”

Grantaire lets out a laugh. “Who wouldn’t want a god?” he mutters.

Combeferre snorts loudly, prompting Enjolras to look up again. Even though his headphones are still firmly in his ears, where they should be, he looks to be far more concerned with their conversation. After a few more seconds he finally looks back down and Courfeyrac starts talking again.

“So, you know, being a god, Zeus transforms himself into a bull and seduces her. Then, poof, he’s gone and she is left on that island.”

“And why is that your favorite?” Marius asks and that poor innocent soul of his is far too naive. _He should know better_ , Grantaire thinks to himself.

“Being dragged to a deserted island just to be fucked?” Courfeyrac grins. “Best idea I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s just gonna be your honeymoon.” Grantaire can’t help himself. It just slips out.

Combeferre immediately blushes redder than a tomato. Courfeyrac just bursts out laughing. For several seconds there is no sound except his laughter, but slowly everyone else joins in - after the first feeling of mortification has faded.

Grantaire almost feels proud of his comment. But if he thinks about it for too long, he’s scared about how quickly he could have fucked up right now. It’s not like the jewelry box in Combeferre’s pocket is hard to miss, but so far Courfeyrac did miss it. And Grantaire doesn’t want to be the one to spoil it for both of them.

So yes, he’s glad that Courfeyrac thought he just made a joke.

Combeferre sends him a small smile and a wink, before focusing back on Courfeyrac.

Across the room, Enjolras’ eyes catch on Grantaire’s for a second before he is talking to the conference again.

“I want to share mine!” Cosette pipes up out of seemingly nowhere. She’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand, pulling out a chair next to Marius with the other. When she’s sitting, she starts talking.

“My favorite myth is the one about Theseus and Ariadne.”

“Doesn’t he leave her on some island for Dionysus?” Eponine asks bewildered. Ah, yes, Grantaire taught her well.

“Yes, but it’s about what comes before that. You see, she was the daughter of Minos, king of Crete. His wife, her mother, Pasiphae, was cursed by the gods and she gave birth to the Minotaur. A creature half human, half bull. And instead of raising him like a son, or killing him as Minos wanted, they created a labyrinth and locked him away in there.”

“That’s cruel,” Feuilly mutters.

“It gets worse. They got children from Athens to feed to the Minotaur for some stupid political reason. And one day, Theseus decided he couldn’t stand by that anymore. He decided to go to Crete and save those children,” Cosette’s eyes sparkle, tears visible.

_She’s too good for this world_ , Grantaire thinks, taking another sip from his bottle.

“Wait, so what happened?”

“Well, he arrived as part of Athen’s tribute. Ariadne saw him with the others and fell madly in love with him. So instead of letting him die, she helped him escape. And then she helped him again - she gave him a bunch of wool, telling him to tie one end to the entrance of the labyrinth and then unroll the wool while walking. So he goes in and follows her advice, he kills the Minotaur and comes back out thanks to the wool leading the way.”

Bahorel yells. “What a smart girl!”

“Yes, she was! Or said to be. Because he was so grateful, Theseus fled the island with her. But then he had a dream - Dionysus came to him, telling him that Ariadne was promised to him. And even though Theseus loved her dearly, he had to leave her behind.”

“That’s very romantic,” Marius adds when Cosette finishes her story. He is looking at her as if she is the sun and Grantaire asks himself if he is ever that obvious when staring at Enjolras.

Eponine scoffs. “There is nothing romantic about that. She falls in love and he only takes her with him because he feels bad. And then he leaves her behind? That’s a douchebag.”

Grantaire stifles his laugh, but before anyone can say anything else, Marius speaks up again. “Well, what is your favorite then, ‘Ponine?”

“Atalanta,” she says and stops, leaving them all stuck in suspense.

“Who’s that?” Joly asks after a few seconds.

“She was a heroine. As a child, her father kicked her out because he wanted a son.” This one stings Grantaire’s heart. He grabs her hand under the table, giving it a soft squeeze. Eponine sends him a grateful glance. “Artemis saw that and sent a bear to watch over her and raise her. She became the fastest runner in all of Greece and was always devoted to Artemis.”

Here she takes a quick breath, looking at all the others, who seem to wait for every word she has to say. “The king of Calydon forgot to sacrifice to Artemis one night, so enraged, she sent a huge boar - later known as the Calydonian Boar - to destroy his city. A bunch of heroes, including Atalanta, took down the boar. After that her father found Atalanta again - and wanted her to be married.” Another soft squeeze of his hand in hers. “She tricked him and said she’s marry the suitor who could outrun her. None of them could. Not without divine intervention.”

Eponine grinned. “And that’s why I love her. She’s a badass motherfucker.”

“You know who’s a badass motherfucker? Oedipus.”

The uproaring laughter at his joke cause Enjolras to look up again, his brows knitted in confusion and concentration, and Grantaire feels bad for him. He is missing out on quality friend time. But then again, Grantaire might have not been able to make those jokes if their dear leader had decided to sit with them.

Eponine turns to Marius. “Well, I have told mine, now tell yours.”

Marius looks sheepish for a second, his freckled face growing slightly pink. “I don’t really know a lot about Greek mythology.” His friends start booing loudly, which makes Marius duck his head. “But I do like the Odyssey. Especially the part when Odysseus finally returns to his wife.”

There is another love-sick glance thrown Cosette’s way. Eponine’s face does something unspeakable for a second, before she picks up Grantaire’s bottle and takes a sip from it. Surprised she turns back to him. “That’s not-”

\- “Combeferre, what’s your favorite?” He scrambles to say.

“My favorite? Probably Eros and Psyche.” He awkwardly pushes his glasses back up his nose. “Psyche was beautiful but her suitors forgot to honor Aphrodite, so she sent Eros to shoot her with an arrow. He instead scratches himself and falls madly in love with her. The west wind, Zephyr, steals her from her family when she is to be killed due to some miscommunication of fortunes or something. And she ends up at Eros’ house.”

“The Greeks sure loved kidnapping, didn’t they?” Jehan mutters.

“Anyway, she doesn’t know who’s there with her because Eros only spends the nights with her. So her sisters tell her to kill him - which she tries but can’t do it. She sees him - and he’s beautiful, he’s a god - and she accidentally brushes one of his arrows, falling madly in love with him.”

“So all’s good then? They’re in love?” Courfeyrac asks, leaning into Combeferre’s space.

“No, of course not. He flees and she tries to follow him, but she runs into Aphrodite who gives her three impossible seeming tasks. She does the tasks and returns. And so, Eros takes her to the other gods and they decide she is good for him. They are married and Psyche is given ambrosia which makes her immortal.”

“So it does have a happy ending!” Courfeyrac laughs. “You had me worried for a second there.”

Jehan speaks up then. “I hope I can remember all of these stories tomorrow.” Their brows knit together in something akin to concern. Grantaire send them a small smile, a silent reassuring gesture. “Feuilly - share yours!”

The other redhead looks up, seemingly startled at being involved now. Poor guy, Grantaire thinks, he’s been thinking too much lately.

“Oh, well. My favorite would have to be the one about the golden apple.” Feuilly smiles, looking quite unsure of what he should say next. “It’s the beginning of the Trojan war, really. But I like it because of the apple. Based on the myth, such an apple made of gold was one of the first things I ever crafted.”

Grantaire feels like he’s seen that golden apple sitting on Bahorel’s dresser before, but he’s not quite sure whether it was Bahorel’s or Feuilly’s apartment he remembers seeing it in. But with the way this story is going, and he knows the meaning of that symbol, he doesn’t need to care where the apple is. Just what it means to have been given.

Bahorel claps the ginger on the shoulder, sending him a small smile. “That’s pretty cool, man, but don’t leave us hanging. What happens in the story?”

“Well, there was some kind of feast and all the gods and goddesses were there. In came Eris, the goddess of strife and discord. She hated the peace between all the gods and so she threw a golden apple and said it was for the most beautiful goddess in the room. Obviously Aphrodite, Hera and Athena all felt like they deserved that apple.”

“Oh no,” Cosette mutters, fully engrossed in Feuilly’s retelling.

“Well, they appointed someone from the outside to decide which goddess would get the apple. So they asked some guy named Paris.”

“Like that guy in Romeo and Juliet?” Jehan asks, sounding vaguely more interested in Shakespeare than Greek mythology.

“Yeah, same name, but I don’t know if it’s actually because Paris steals the woman of somebody else or if that’s just a coincidence. Anyway, all three goddesses promise him things. Riches, a large kingdom, you name it, he got it offered. But Aphrodite promised him the most beautiful woman on earth - Helen, who was married to Menelaus.”

“Wait, stealing his wife lead to the Trojan war? How?” Bossuet cuts in.

Feuilly laughs. “Well, Menelaus was quite offended because he loved her as well. And a lot of Greek kings and heroes had promised to help him get her back. So he thought a war would be best. Obviously, it kind of worked, because Troy fell in the end. The Trojan horse and all that.”

“Isn’t the Trojan war also when Achilles died?” Bahorel asks. “Because that’s my favorite hero from all of Greek mythology.”

“Yeah, he did.” Grantaire answers him. “Do you know the story behind it?”

“He had a fight with one of the leaders of the war, Agamemnon, if I remember correctly. Because of... one thing or another. Anyway, he sent out Patroclus in his armor instead because he didn’t want to fight under Agamemnon anymore.” Bahorel started.

“But Patroclus died…?” Courfeyrac asks cautiously. “That’s what everyone knows. Both Patroclus and Achilles die in the end.”

“Yes, he did die in that armor because Apollo was fighting for Troy and killed him. After that Achilles went completely insane on that battlefield. He got revenge because he had loved Patroclus so much. And even though Achilles was almost invincible, he died because Paris shot him in the heel.” Bahorel’s eyes are glossed over, as if he is far away in thought.

“And before you ask, yes, _that_ Paris from the golden apple story.” Feuilly answers the unasked question present in the air.

“That’s quite tragic,” Joly breaths out. There’s a moment of silence, before he sighs. “I might as well tell you about my favorite character.”

Grantaire chances another glance over at Enjolras and finds him staring intently at his laptop. His lips are pulled down into a frown. His hands are running through his hair, a way to release the built up tension. He almost doesn’t hear Joly start speaking again and has to forcefully drag his eyes away from the blond so he can still follow the discussion.

“My favorite is Melampus. He was a healer, but not just any healer. He is the most famous out of all of them. But not just because of that - he was an incredible seer, who could also talk to animals. There isn’t really anything about him in any of the myths, except that he started the worship of Dionysus.”

Joly sends a quick glance towards Grantaire, who raises his bottle in a mock salute. Eponine raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything.

All eyes turn to Bossuet, expecting him to speak next. “I really like Deucalion.” He doesn’t say anything else for a long time, so Joly taps his arm gently.

“There was a flood and he and his wife were the only people to survive it. Imagine his luck,” he laughs. “Well, they were tasked with building a new set of people to inhabit the world, or rather Greece. Because he was the son of Prometheus or something. So they picked up pebbles and turning away from some fertile patch of land threw the pebbles over their shoulders. Those pebbles then turned into new people. And bam, they did it, they saved Greece.”

Again he laughs, and a few of the others join him.

He then turns to Jehan. “Before Grantaire talks our ears off with some obscure myth, please do tell us your favorite.”

Jehan laughs. “No offence, R, but please keep it short when it’s your turn.” They reach over the table to grasp Grantaire’s hand and give it a squeeze.

“My favorite myth is actually the one surrounding Orpheus. He was a famous musician and poet, the son of Apollo and the muse Calliope. It’s where I draw my inspiration from, mostly.” Cosette coos at that. “The myth goes that he lost his wife, Eurydice, when she was bitten by a snake and died on the spot.”

Marius winces at that, another glance thrown Cosette’s way. Grantaire can’t help but notice Combeferre take Courfeyrac’s hand. There is movement from the other side of the table as Bahorel shifts closer to Feuilly and Joly and Bossuet both turn to look at Musichetta who is working behind the bar of the Musain.

But Jehan continues as if they haven’t noticed any of that happen. “So protected by the gods, Orpheus decides to descend into the underworld to talk to Hades and Persephone. He plays them some songs and Hades finally relents. He tells Orpheus that he can get his wife back, under one condition. He has to lead the way up and can’t look at her until they are both outside.”

“That can’t end well,” Eponine mutters next to Grantaire. It doesn’t seem like anyone else has heard her, so Jehan continues.

“Orpheus then ascends back into the world of the living, but he can’t hear Eurydice’s footsteps. He thinks the gods might have fooled him because they are known to do that-” Grantaire risks another glance at Enjolras. He still seems to be fully engrossed in the video conference. “-so a few feet before he reaches the real world again, he loses his faith and turns around. For a second he catches a glimpse of Eurydice’s soul before she is yanked back into the underworld forever.”

“Oh no.” It’s Courfeyrac who speaks what everyone else thinks.

Jehan stifles a laugh. “It is quite tragic, but it is such a beautiful tale.” They shrug, before reaching over the table again and stealing Grantaire’s bottle from him. “Your turn, R.”

Grantaire sighs. He had all the time in the world to decide what he was going to say.

“Icarus.”

There is a beat of silence, everyone obviously wondering what he meant.

“Because you are putting yourself in danger?” Courfeyrac pipes up.

“Is it the alcohol?” Eponine cuts in.

“You’re headed for an early grave?” Joly asks anxiously, half getting up, as if he were to hug Grantaire. Or ask Musichetta to do so. Because let’s face it, Musichetta gives the best hugs.

Ignoring their questions, Grantaire makes a show out of obviously staring at Enjolras, who still seems engrossed in his laptop. He lets out another sigh and has to stop himself from breaking the facade by breaking into laughter. “Because I, too, want to fuck the sun.”

There is another beat of silence, then it seems to click and the amis break out into uproaring laughter. Enjolras looks up, somewhat startled by the sudden noise. He pulls out the headphones, closes his laptop and stands up.

Grantaire can already feel himself blushing as a grin starts spreading on Enjolras’ face. And by everything that is holy, this whole conversation has only proven one thing to him - Enjolras really is Apollo. He has never looked more divine.

“Scientifically speaking, that is quite the alarming statement, Grantaire.”

\--

“You do know you could have just told them, right?”

Grantaire snaps his eyes open, a grin spreading over his face. “Yeah, but where would the fun be in that?”

Enjolras’ hand is still stroking across his bare chest, their legs tangled under the sheets. For a second it seems like he might stay quiet. But that’s never what happens with Enjolras.

“I’m just saying.”

It takes a moment, but then it clicks. “Wait. Do you actually want to tell them?” If he wasn’t as comfortable as he was, he might have tried sitting up. But he’s way too comfortable, so he just tightens his arm around Enjolras’ shoulders. Grantaire looks down, trying to get a good look at the blond’s face.

And what he sees there is breathtaking. A light blush is grazing Enjolras’ cheeks. There’s still some drops of sweat on his forehead, reminding Grantaire what they had done a couple minutes prior to this conversation. And for a second, it feels like he wants to ravish Enjolras again. But then their eyes meet and he sees so much love and adoration in those ocean blues.

“I do, yes.” A smile is spreading all over that beautiful face.

“Apollo-” but the words leave Grantaire right then and there. He feels his eyes prick, tears threatening to fall. “Okay.”

Then they’re kissing and it’s glorious. Like fireworks. Like beautiful summer nights full of laughter and joy. Like the feeling right after Grantaire finishes one of his paintings. Like the feeling when he sees Enjolras deliver one of his famous speeches at a rally they all care for so much.

“Okay,” he mumbles against Enjolras’ lips. The smile lighting up his face breaks the kiss, but they have all the time in the world for more. He doesn’t doubt that there is a lifetime ahead for him and the love of his life.

\--

“Hey, Enjolras!” Jehan screams loudly when the leader enters the Musain the next afternoon. Apparently everyone else had arrived already, Enjolras notes distantly, too distracted by seeing Grantaire’s hands flying as he talks to Bahorel. “We never got to ask yesterday, but what’s your favorite Greek myth?”

There’s silence now. Even Grantaire is silently watching him, a sly smile on his lips. As he raises a bottle of what seems to be wine, but is actually the super sugary syrup mixture he prepares at Enjolras’ apartement every morning, to his lips, Enjolras decides to speak up.

“I think, Apollo and Hyacinthus. Imagine loving someone that much.” His eyes stray over the Amis arranged at the tables before him. He sees Grantaire choking on his drink from the corner of his eyes and has to stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Doesn’t Hyacinthus ...die because of Apollo?” Courfeyrac asks cautiously.

Grantaire speaks up at that. “Kind of. He gets killed by the west wind, Zephyr, out of jealousy.” His eyes are locked on Enjolras’, silently asking what he’s doing. “Apollo wouldn’t let Hades take his soul, so Hyacinthus got turned into a flower.”

“Forever young and beautiful. Every year returning for his lover,” Jehan sighs. “How romantic.”

All eyes turn back to Enjolras when he clears his throat. “Exactly. But please, everyone, refrain from harming Grantaire. I can’t turn him into a flower, neither do I particularly want to.”

The following silence is deafening, but more deafening is the thunderous cheer, laughter and applause following Enjolras’ statement. He sees Grantaire blushing bright red as various Amis clap him on the shoulder, congratulating him.

Yes, definitely a lifetime together ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my tumblr @pansexual-space-princess or my twitter on @beepbeepmadds
> 
> kudos and comments are much appreciated <3


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